Page 42 of Fumble

“Well, fuck me sideways. I’m so glad you realized this after you make me so fucking crazy for you that all I think about, all day every day, is sinking balls deep inside you!”

“Will you keep your voice down? This is what I’m talking about. You’re not exactly able to navigate America without being noticed. If this guy decides to repeat any of what you just said, you can kiss your career goodbye.” My voice is barely a whisper.

“My career is already over. Didn’t you get the memo that I blew out my knee, and I’m too fucking old to do the only thing I ever loved? This… the Hall of Fame… it’s icing on the cake, but my career is done. I’ve earned more money than I could ever spend. What do you think you’re going to ruin?”

“Your reputation.” He throws his head back in laughter. He has no idea I’m trying to protect his reputation in more ways than one right now.

“Are you serious? If anything, my reputation would only be solidified if this got out. I’m a player. Isn’t that why you want me? You want a guy who knows what he’s doing. You said it yourself. I’m your ticket to an enjoyable first foray into sex. You’ll get off, I’ll get off, and you’ll go about your merry way, happy for whatever reason that you made a player play. If you’re second-guessing your big plan, have the decency to admit it. Don’t use my reputation as an excuse.”

“It’ll ruin your relationship with my dad,” I choke it out like a red rag to a bull.

“That was decimated the second you took your clothes off. Do you think I’ll ever be able to look him in the eye again without being racked by guilt? I fucking told you. I tried to be the good guy, and you wouldn’t let me. Do not throw his name out there as an ice bucket for your own libido. It’s childish. The minute I watched you come, my mentor was gone. You… you don’t fucking get it.” I want to comfort him, to be comforted by him, but if I reach out in this moment, a touch of his hand won’t be enough.

“We should stop talking now before I say something I regret.” Before I tell you everything.

“Or because I’ve already said something you regret.” Hunter wrings his hands through his hair, defeat evident in the way he slumps back on the seat, his gaze going to the cityscape whirring past. He has no idea why I’ve done a complete one-eighty on him.

The rest of our journey is spent in uncomfortable silence, my mind waging war on itself. Why did I say all those nasty things? It’s not his fault that Malcolm thinks I’m a skank. What other name is there for someone willing to wager their virginity? Did I bring this on myself? Maybe Malcolm was responding to the way I’ve been conducting myself with Hunter. The longer I ponder every last word that’s been said today by Malcolm, Hunter, and me, the more I don’t recognize myself. Hunter is right. I pursued him, and I wouldn’t quit until he relented, and now that he wants me, I’m pushing him away. I have my reasons, but all I want in this moment is to crawl into his arms and have him kiss every last trace of Malcolm from my mind, body, and soul.

When we reach the hotel, I’m unprepared for the sight of Malcolm flinging open the cab door the second we grind to a halt.

“You stupid little bitch.” Vitriol drips from every word. Before I have a chance to respond, I hear the door slam on the other side of the car. Hunter is out and towering over his manager in seconds. His body radiating authority.

“What the fuck is your problem, Malcolm? What has she ever done to you? You worried she’s going to replace you?”

“As if! She’s a child,” he sneers.

“She’s a fucking woman and a member of my staff, so you’ll speak to her with some goddamn respect.”

“Vaughn…” Hunter strides off, leaving me behind, Malcolm trailing him like a yappy little dog.

The cab driver helps with my bags before turning to me, an apologetic smile firmly set on his features. “You don’t have to worry about me, Miss. What happens in the cab, stays in the cab.” I fish through my bag for my wallet, my body still shaking. I offer him everything I have by way of a thank you, but he doesn’t take it. “Mr. Vaughn paid me before we left the airport. He’s a good man, and it might not be my place to say, but a man like that doesn’t do anything without knowing the consequences. He likes you. You’d have to be blind not to see it.”

“Thank you for your discretion. I appreciate it.” He gets back in the car, a last warm glance in my direction.

“You take care, Miss.”

* * *

I avoideveryone like the plague as I check in. They’re too busy gossiping about whatever just went down between Hunter and Malcolm before he stormed inside. Waiting until they’re all gone, and there’s no sign of Malcolm, I scurry into the elevator. I know I should go to my room, but as the doors close, I find myself pressing for the top floor. I have no idea if Malcolm is up there fighting with Hunter, or if Hunter will even want to see me at this point. I’m terrified to come face to face with Malcolm right now, afraid I wouldn’t be strong enough to keep my composure. I refuse to let that little bastard win, but as my floor comes and goes, my body vibrates with a desperate need for Hunter’s warm embrace. To take whatever strength I can from him—the cool self-assurance I’ve come to know and love. He’s as necessary as breathing to me in this moment. I hate the way our conversation ended, and after everything that’s happened today, I know I won’t sleep tonight if we don’t talk.

My stomach is churning by the time I reach the top floor, and I’m met with his security guard who eyes me knowingly. Hunter must have stormed in here like a bear with a sore head, and I’m the suspected cause. He doesn’t try to stop me, instead stepping aside to let me through. My hand is shaking as I rap my knuckles on the door. What if he won’t let me in? What if I get verbal diarrhea? Or worse, what if I can’t find any words to express how I’m feeling?

The door flies open, Hunter doling out a tongue-lashing to his poor, unsuspecting security guard.

“Murphy! I told you I didn’t want to be disturbed. Did I fucking stutter?” Anger is coming off of him in waves. He doesn’t even see me.

“Sorry, it’s not his fault.” My voice startles him, but in a single heartbeat, he grabs my hand, pulls me inside, and slams the door behind us. Not inviting me past the doorway, he paces the floor, rubbing his hand over the scruff on his jaw. It’s sexy as hell, but he only does it when he’s frustrated.

“Why are you here, Faith? What’s left to say? We need to work together, and we can do that from a respectable distance. I get it. Thrill of the chase is great, but the reality isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.” His vulnerability throws me. He could have any woman he wants, and yet he’s standing in front of me, hurt visible as his gaze finds mine, pleading for mercy.

I have no words, my heart taking over my brain.

My body propels me forward, catching him off guard, pushing him against the wall before clasping his face in my hands, taking control of the way our bodies touch. My eyes lock on his, asking permission before pulling his mouth toward me, my lips crashing down on his with the desperation of a starving woman. Our tongues twist and tangle in a frenzied fuck. Every nerve ending in my body responds to him—his hands wrapping around my waist before flipping our position. The cool, rigid surface of the wall against my back sends a delicious spark coursing through me, his body pressing against me, his hips unforgiving as he grinds into me. He’s so hard right now, it makes me ache. I crave his dick in a way I never thought possible.

Grabbing my thigh, his hand caresses down behind my knee, hoisting me up, my legs wrapping around his waist. Bracing himself with one arm against the wall, all rational thought is lost in rasping groans, his lips moving to my neck nipping, sucking, and his tongue caressing my skin with skilled perfection.

“I want you, Faith, so fucking bad it hurts.” I can only moan in reply. His breath labored, frantic.

Digging my nails into his back, I claw at him, the need to be close to him, a raging inferno ripping through my body replacing any trace of my earlier anguish. My hands find their way into his messy hair, just long enough to get a grip and pull. I’m hungry for his kiss, my tongue eager to taste him. Rewarded with the thrust of his hips, I can’t get enough. The rest of the world and its complications fade away, and there’s only the two of us. In this moment. Together.

“Hunter.” Barely able to pull myself away from his kiss long enough to speak, my words come out as no more than a pleading breath.

“Take me to bed.”

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